


bee my bad boy, bee my man

by catpoop



Series: Sheith Month 2018 [9]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bee!Keith, Bees, Flower!Shiro, Gender Dysphoria, Harassment, M/M, Trans Keith (Voltron), attempted scientific accuracy, mild crack, shewo has depression, supposed to be a crack porn fic but now it has plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-08 00:01:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15230928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catpoop/pseuds/catpoop
Summary: Sheith Month '18 - 11/7: Free DayKeith feels like he can never fit into his hive, while Shiro is outcast and distant from all the other flowers. Somehow, they find each other(Bee x Flower AU)





	bee my bad boy, bee my man

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this bc i read a Bad bee x flower fic and i was so incensed i wanted to write bad porn as payback but instead it grew a plot and now im invested
> 
> also: from my extensive hours on google and PhD in bee-ology, i can conclude that all worker bees who go out to collect pollen + nectar are biologically female, therefore keith in this is trans
> 
> (posting this on the 10th bc i havent written the one for 10/7 which i shall hopefully post tmr instead)

The first time Keith goes out on a harvesting mission, he _loathes_ it. The field of assorted flowers look pretty and alluring from a distance, but the moment he flies closer with the rest of his brood, he hears the worst sound imaginable. 

The petals rustle benignly in the breeze, but each brush of the wind sends call after noxious call down his antennae.

“Hey there, babygirl~”  
“Who wants a taste of _this?_ ”

Grimacing, Keith turns to look at Lance, only to find that he’s already zoomed off, drawn to a set of particularly voluptuous petals.

“ _Lance!_ ”

He has half a mind to return to the hive if it weren’t for the fact that he needs to repay his safe upbringing with something equally constructive. Guilt overpowers the raw stench of disgust he was feeling a moment ago, and after a quick circuit of the field, Keith concludes he better get to work, lest he gets lost or left behind on his first mission outside.

Gritting his teeth, Keith swoops down to the nearest flower, trying to ignore the way the petals fluff up at his arrival. Even if he’s never tried this before, the instinct to collect nectar and pollen is bred into each and every worker bee, and there’s no mistaking the patterns decorating the petals. Keith tentatively crawls towards the indigo centres.

He’s just about to extend his proboscis when an anther brushes up against one of his back legs and a voice resonates from somewhere beyond the nectaries:

“Thirsty?”

The question nearly startles him right off the flower, and Keith picks himself up with a flustered shake of the wings. After a moment’s thought, he chooses to stay silent, because putting his discomfort into words and coherent thoughts is just going to put him off his task. 

He sticks his proboscis into the shimmery pool of nectar and takes a sizeable mouthful, intent on filling his belly with the sticky goodness as fast as he can and leaving. Another anther shakes a cloud of pollen onto his back and he stiffens before furiously resuming his task.

“Yeah, just like that…” the flower croons, before adding, “I can’t wait to see more of you pretty ladies out here this season.”

At that, Keith chokes heavily on his mouthful of nectar, spits out what he can, and gathers himself up into an angry buzzing ball of _furious_ bee.

“It tasted like shit anyway, asshole,” he snaps before flitting off. Whatever the flower has to say for itself is lost to the wind as Keith speeds off to the farthest possible plant he can find in their designated field.

The flowers there are no better, but Keith stays sane by picking up pollen from one flower, zooming off to hover in the air as he collects the powder into the pockets on his legs, and then darting off to the next. This leaves no time in between for any more auditory onslaughts, but as a consequence, he floats back towards the hive panting with exhaustion.

“What’s the matter?” Lance asks once they find each other in the crowd again. “Too excited after baby’s first outing?”

Keith doesn’t even have the energy to come up with a retort, and Lance eyes him in concern for a millisecond before continuing with his grandiose tales of his day in the field.

“So, I met the most _gorgeous_ lady, only to discover she had like, two dozen twin siblings all living with her. How wild is that?”

Keith huffs. “They’re all intersex, Lance.”

“She can be a she if she wants,” Lance confidently disagrees, and Keith gives up on talking on the journey back, focused only on keeping the nectar in his honey stomach and not digesting it all in a fit of desperation. He’s technically allowed to do that, but he’s not too sure what their mentors would think about him returning with nothing but the barest bits of pollen.

Once they’re finally debriefed and free to go, Keith runs for dinner, gobbling it down like a starving man and trying not to focus on the excited sounds his sisters are making about the day they’d just had.

It’s not _fair_. It’s not fair feeling like the only one in his hive to stick out like a sore, uncomfortable thumb (with the exception of Lance, because Lance has and always will be a free spirit). It’s not fair having to go out harvesting with everyone else when his _true_ duty should be the honour of getting a chance at breeding the queen. 

But that’s what his biology has designed him for, and Keith sighs at the thought of endless more days of the same circuit outside until winter comes and he can finally rest.

 

That is, until he discovers something strange and unusual, a little ways away from their usual patch. Keith is confident enough now to fly back to the hive without the safety of the rest of his family, and he turns his attention back to the curious sight in from of him, angling his body to carry him directly towards that deep purple, almost black flower, ringed with a defining white. The surrounding leaves in their magenta hues make this strange, lonely flower even more prominent.

Keith comes to a standstill on one swaying petal, crawling forwards as the flower remains eerily silent. Maybe that’s for the better, he decides, before noticing the strangely shrunken stamens that lie almost pitifully curled in the centre of the flower.

“…Oh, sorry…” A small voice responds when he hasn’t moved for a while. “You should go back over there, they have better specimens.”

Keith blinks in confusion. “Wait, no. I don’t mind – I’m sure we can make this work somehow.”

But closer inspection reveals only a sad-looking stigma and the smallest pool of nectar he’s come across. He takes a small sip in contemplation. It’s as sweet as any other, and only further sweetened by the fact the flower has done little to irritate him so far.

The flower seems to take his silence for rejection, and it trembles again in uncertainty. “You should… go.”

But Keith’s already made up his mind. “I’m not going to, sorry. You seem nice, so I’m going to stick around for a little longer.” To emphasise his point, he scrapes a little pollen that had spilled out from his collection and dabs it onto the stigma, before diving in head-first and vibrating his wings and body fast enough to shake a few grains off the neglected anthers.

The flower gasps. “U-Um.”

“I’ll come back tomorrow, and I’ll bring even more pollen, don’t worry.”

Unfortunately, Keith has a job to do, and he doesn’t want to deprive this one poor flower of all its nectar and pollen. He buzzes back off into the field, shooting one last look at the swaying purple petals. 

 

“How was today?” Lance asks to preface yet another long-winded retelling of no doubt all the fun he had. 

“Alright.”

“Yeah, so – _wait!_ Wait, what was that – were you _smiling_?”

“I – no? No I wasn’t.”

Lance sniffs. “O-kay then. Well, as I was saying…”

Keith tunes him out after a second or two, already thinking of ways to cheer up the sad-looking plant he’d stumbled across.

 

When the bee returns, Shiro knows it’s the same one, because he hasn’t had many visitors in a long while. Something about being located in the most inconvenient spot, and having even less to offer. He watches in silence as the bee determinedly makes a beeline for the sturdiest of his petals, its – _her_ , he remembers, because the last visitor he’d had told him the interesting fact – legs settling gently down.

“Hi,” he attempts, and she responds in similar fashion, taking a moment to unload the pollen from her back legs and pile it in the centre of his flower. Shiro knows he’s a little lacking in that department, but he can still _survive_ by using his roots and leaves instead – though he always feels lonely when spring comes along and the air everywhere is abuzz with activity, except for around him.

“Thank you, little bee. You didn’t have to, but –”

“It’s Keith,” the bee interrupts. “And I’m happy to be of help.”

Oh, Shiro remedies in his mind. “You’re a –?”

Little legs tap against him in irritation. “ _Yes_ , I’m not your standard female worker bee.” Keith’s wings twitch as he looks ready to take off.

“That’s no problem,” Shiro quickly replies. “Nice to meet you, Keith. I’m Shiro.”

Keith is silent for a pause. “…Oh. Nice to meet you too, Shiro.”

Worried that he’s made a poor impression, Shiro scrambles for something else to say. But before he can, Keith immediately gets to work. Shiro can only watch in fascination as his little body rubs and bumps up against his anthers, making quick work of the sparse pollen grains. He pauses once or twice to sip up some nectar, but otherwise the time passes quickly to the feeling of Keith vibrating against his most delicate parts.

Surely, Shiro thinks, surely after this, he’ll start flowering healthily.

Keith finally stops when he’s a tired, panting mess, but he gives Shiro the most sincere look he can and says: “I’ll come back tomorrow, and I’ll try and bring friends.”

“Why are you doing this?” Shiro thinks aloud. “And – friends?”

“As many bees as it takes.”

“To –?”

“To make you feel happy and confident again.” And with those words, Keith buzzes away with a goodbye, leaving Shiro feeling like he’s been given a new lease on life.

**Author's Note:**

> pls love me, unlike all my friends who have abandoned me for my bee crimes


End file.
